Antithesis
by Mizaya
Summary: [3xMU, 4xSN] AC 205: Trowa and Quatre both struggle with their love lives in very different ways, acknowledging with their lovers their pains from the past. Rating will likely go up in the future for sexual situations and possibly violence.


Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters belong to their respective owners. I own no part of them.

A/N: This story takes place 9 years after the war, when the pilots have grown somewhat. Mainly focusing on Trowa x Midii and Quatre x Sylvia, I hope to explore the varying nature of relationships and the effects suffered due to past pains. Could be short, could be epic, I'm just not sure yet.

--A.C. 205--

Quatre Raberba Winner smiled cheerfully as he waved at his friends' departing shuttle. It had been a nice treat to spend a few days with the former Gundam pilots and their friends, and an even nicer treat to see the wedding of two of his companions. He had invited Duo to get married at the Winner estate, knowing that he and Hilde couldn't afford anything extravagant, and the Deathscythe's pilot had gratefully accepted. So, on the first official day of spring, Quatre had greeted his friends at the L4 air base and taken them on his private shuttle to the Winner satellite where he lived. He had more than enough room for everyone, even with 29 sisters and hundreds of servants and advisors and secretaries about. Quatre always felt that the more company he had, the merrier; he was an admitted people person.

"It was a lovely wedding, Quatre."

Trowa Barton, Quatre's closest friend, still stood at his side. Although Quatre had been excited to see all of his old friends, he had been most anticipating Trowa's extended visit. The acrobat was usually busy, traveling with the circus troupe to Earth and all the outlying colonies, and Quatre himself was preoccupied with never ending meetings. The fact that Duo's wedding date coincided with the circus's yearly hiatus and a rare lull in Quatre's schedule was pure dumb luck.

"Yeah, it was. Those two seem genuinely happy together, don't you think? I hope offering them a honeymoon at the family spa wasn't too presumptuous of me," Quatre answered to his friends comment, eyebrows drawn together in worry.

Trowa put his hands in his pockets and ducked his head, shielding his eyes with his hair. "No, I think they truly appreciated the gesture. It was very kind of you."

Turning with his friend to walk back to the house, Quatre squinted at the setting sun. "I hope so. Everyone else seemed to have a good time, as well, I think." 

"Everyone except Wufei, at least," Trowa chuckled in his quiet, unpracticed way.

"You're right," Quatre said, laughing with him. "I don't think Sally is going to let him hold out for long." Wufei had spent the majority of the weekend avoiding his girlfriend, grumbling about how weddings were for the 'weak.' Not surprisingly, Sally found the whole situation hilarious and refused to let up on the blatant matrimonial hints. By the time the got on the shuttle to leave, Wufei was in a vulgar mood from the rest of the party joining in Sally's teasing. "Do you think they'll be next?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know. I guess so."

In the past two years it seemed that all of their war acquaintances were taking trips down the aisle or at least falling in love. Milliardo and Lucrezia had started it, in a huge ceremony at the Preventer headquarters ballroom. Then Relena and Heero had shocked them all by eloping. Quatre supposed that he understood their desire for a private and intimate wedding. If they hadn't, the paparazzi would have tormented them and given them no peace. Thankfully the public seemed to understand, too. He didn't think that Relena could do anything to fall from their graces. 

Sending his mind back to the original topic, Quatre listed off the rest of his friends. Lady Une had wed an older aristocrat from Spain, Dorothy had begun dating a childhood friend, and most recently Catherine Bloom had gotten engaged to the star tight rope walker. "Does it bother you that Catherine is going to get married, Trowa?" he asked as they stepped across the threshold into the mansion. "I mean, it seems like you and I are the only ones left who aren't settling down."

Trowa waited until they got to Quatre's study and sat down before he answered. "Cathy is happy, and that's all I care about, but I do understand what you're saying." Trowa accepted his offer of a stiff drink; Quatre poured himself club soda. "I never really put effort into looking for anyone, but I would like to see you have someone if that's what you want."

"Thanks, Trowa. I _do_ want someone, but I'm not sure I can find the right one. My sisters have set me up on countless dates, and the girls they pick are nice, but there's always just something missing. Sometimes I think that I'm being too picky." Quatre examined his glass intently, watching the bubbles skim to the surface of the liquid.

"I don't think that's a bad thing, Quatre. You have the ability to be picky. I seem to have the opposite problem. I'm open-minded about meeting someone, but it just never happens. Traveling around like a gypsy doesn't lend itself to dating." Snapping his jaw shut as though talking so much was rude, Trowa threw back his head and emptied his cup. 

Quatre immediately stood and filled his proffered glass again; he wasn't used to seeing Trowa imbibe so heavily. "There's also the lack of physical contact," he said cautiously, feeling emboldened by his friend's lack of restraint.

"Yeah," Trowa responded. He took a hearty gulp of his amber whiskey before he continued. "That's not so much the problem. Meeting girls for the night is easy for some reason, but that's totally different than having someone to love."

Initially, his friend's answer had been a little humiliating, since Quatre himself hadn't been intimate with anyone since his last failed relationship, over a year prior. But then he considered how empty that must make a person like Trowa feel and grew sad. He could read the pain that it caused the somber man, whose abandonment at an early age always made him search out a home, even when he didn't know he was doing it. To have Catherine getting married added to his carnal exploits must hollow out his core. It must also be the reason for his sudden drinking. Quatre promised himself that he would look out for his friend more closely, perhaps even ask him to stay past his vacation time.

"Quatre?"

The blonde realized he had been daydreaming and smiled at his comrade. "I'm okay, I was just thinking. What do you say we have some fun tonight?" he suggested brightly. "There's a great place to go fishing at the artificial lake. Now's the perfect time to go."

"Sounds good," Trowa concurred.

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By the time five days had passed, the conversation with Trowa about love and marriage had almost slipped Quatre's mind. The old friends had spent time together doing a variety of things, like taking a trip to the nearest resource satellite, testing some of the newest transporters that the Maganacs had built, playing chess, and generally just enjoying their break together. Quatre didn't want to think about Trowa leaving at the end of the week. He had become accustomed to having him around.

"Master Quatre, the delegates have arrived," came a polite voice from behind him as he walked down the hall.

Inclining his head, Quatre smiled at his aged retainer. "Thank you, Huan. Will you show them to the conference room? I'll be there in a minute." Huan bowed low to Quatre as he made his way down the hall to Trowa's guest room. He called out to his friend and knocked on the door.

"Good morning," Trowa said, opening the door wide to admit his host.

"Oh, I can't stay long. I wanted to let you know that I have a meeting today that might last a couple of hours. I feel badly because it totally slipped my mind until this morning."

Trowa just shrugged. "That's fine. I guess our plans are moved back then?"

"Yeah," Quatre apologized, "but why don't you come find me at 1 o'clock." He laughed slightly. "These people looking for sponsorship are usually kind of boring so it will give me a good excuse to get away." A guilty blush rose in his cheeks. He always felt bad about getting fed up with the constant stream of petitioners, because they were only doing their jobs and trying to make a positive difference, but they did absorb his time. Being the head of the wealthiest family in outer space had its downfalls.

"I'll find you," Trowa said with a sly half smile. Quatre had griped a little much maybe about the issue during Trowa's stay. "You'd better be off. The longer you make them wait the greedier they get, right?"

"Right," Quatre laughed.

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Winding his way through the extensive mansion was compromising his sense of direction. Trowa wasn't sure how Quatre managed to find his way around in the place. Obviously the former master of the house had decided that the estate should grow with the family, so the result was a confusing mass of twisted hallways and ridiculous angles. Despite living in the jumbled mess of the circus, Trowa was fonder of symmetry and order. Even so, he could admire the beauty of the house. If he looked beyond the chaos of its construction the place was filled with exquisite artwork and fine wood paneling. Such things were an innovation to him, since his homes had always been of either worn canvas or cold metal. He supposed Quatre appreciated his home, at least. The Winner heir wasn't the type to take his possessions for granted.

His watch read 1 o'clock exactly when he finally made his way to the door of the conference hall where Quatre was entertaining the delegates, but he was surprised by the noises that he heard from inside. While Trowa had expected the monotony of financial negotiations, he heard laughing, both the healthy laughter of former pilot 04 and a lighter more feminine giggle. Taken aback, Trowa pushed the door open and peered inside.

There sat Quatre with two blonde girls. One of them was petite, with mildly darker hair and large naïve-looking cerulean eyes. She was the source of the giggles. Quatre was sitting very close to her, laughing so hard his eyes appeared closed, and obviously very intent on their conversation. But they weren't the focus of Trowa's attention. The other girl, with longer, paler hair and a more athletic build was the one who made him freeze in place. She hadn't seen him yet, but he gazed at her hazel eyes as though transfixed by them. He knew her from somewhere, from some deep dark time in his past. Those memories had been swept away by the years and war and emotions and change, though, and now he could only wonder what those eyes had meant in times forgotten. Whoever she was, she was gorgeous.

"Oh, Trowa!" His name called made him able to move again. "I'd like you to meet my guests from Earth. This is Sylvia Noventa, granddaughter of Marshall Noventa, and this is Midii Une. They're starting up a social organization to support women's education programs. This is former Gundam pilot 03, Trowa Barton," Quatre indicated, motioning in his direction.

"Sylvia Noventa," Trowa said, looking to the tiny girl whom Quatre had been laughing with. Memories of Sicily and Heero came rushing back. "Right, I've seen you before. I was with Heero Yuy when he journeyed to your home."

Sylvia beamed at him. "That's right, you were in the truck. I do hope Mr. Yuy has grown up a bit," she chuckled.

Trowa watched as Quatre joked with her. "Oh, well, Heero's just Heero." He could already tell that his comrade liked her, but that was a thought for later. He wanted to speak more with this Midii Une person.

"Are you any relation to Lady Une of the Preventers?" Trowa began, trying to think of some way to get into talking to this girl. He tried desperately to remember her, because something told him it was important or vital or dire or just plain necessary. He wanted to know where this connection came from and if she recalled him, as well.

"Perhaps," Midii said blandly, "but I know little of my extended family. The wars on Earth when I was a child caused me to lose many things." Something in her tone made Trowa realize she was trying to relay something to him, but he wasn't sure what it was yet. Everything before arriving at L3 was too fuzzy in his mind. Her experience in the struggles on Earth were some clue, though, possibly. Whatever the case, she was trying to bore holes through him with her eyes and it made him none too comfortable. He suddenly wanted to itch wherever her stare landed.

An uneasy silence had come over the room, and Quatre in his typical Quatre sense picked up on Trowa's mood. "If you will excuse me, ladies, I'll have Huan show you to the delegate's suite where you can freshen up if you want or take a nap. I know you've had a long and tiring trip. Why don't we plan on dinner in the grand hall tonight at 6 o'clock sharp? Is that enough time to get ready?"

Sylvia stretched her right hand out to shake Quatre's and smiled even wider. "That'll be very nice," she said sweetly. She was clearly the leader of the two, even if Midii appeared shrewder. He could see what his friend liked in the perky girl, though, and he was happy to witness Quatre in such a light mood. The guy had been close to depressed all week long.

"Pleasure meeting you both," Trowa told them courteously, making special effort to acknowledge Midii Une. "Until later." He left the room somberly and paused outside for Quatre to shake Midii's hand and join him. "Women's education?" he questioned.

Quatre was still glowing. "Yes, I think they made a very good proposal. I'm going to agree to sponsor them, after I look over their contract, of course."

"Sylvia is a nice girl," Trowa said encouragingly. "And I think she likes you."

Pinkness flooded Quatre's cheeks. "I don't know about that. She's intelligent, and she's got a good sense of humor. I just wish she didn't live on Earth," he lamented. "I doubt anything would work out since she's so involved there and I am here."

"I wouldn't say that. Anything is possible. You should get to know her." It wouldn't take a blind man to see the sparks that had been flying between them. He sincerely wanted Quatre to be happy, and Noventa's granddaughter had serious potential. "And she's cute."

If Quatre had been rosy before, he was bright red now. "She is," he agreed. After a moment he continued. "You know, you're right, Trowa. I think I will try and get to know her. It certainly wouldn't hurt!" he laughed.

Trowa hated to spoil the mood, but it was the perfect opportunity to bring up Sylvia's partner without seeming overly interested. He trusted Quatre with his life, but he didn't want his friend trying to hook him up with her or anything before he figured out more about her. He knew Quatre was already considering it just by looking at him. "What about her friend? She seemed less friendly."

"She was solemn from the beginning, but I noticed something in her. When I mentioned that you were here, she seemed to get pensive. Do you know her from somewhere?" 

Quatre and his perceptive talents. "I don't know," Trowa confessed. "She looks familiar to me, but I can't be sure. So many things from my past are foggy."

"I'm sorry, Trowa." Quatre still held himself accountable for Trowa's incomplete memories, no matter how many times Trowa had explained that those holes had been there before Vayate's demise at Quatre's hand. "Do you want me to ask Sylvia about it tonight?"

Shaking his head, Trowa refused the offer. "No, I don't think so. I have a funny feeling that Miss Une wouldn't appreciate that. I'll figure it out myself."

"Sure, Trowa. You know I'd help you with anything if you asked, though. Maybe she was one of those girls who joined that Gundam pilot fan club after the war." Quatre's laughter this time was forced. They had all had a few too many groupies stalking them when the war had just ended, and the media had only fueled the madness, advertising Gundam pilot trading cards and "official Gundam memorabilia" to anyone willing to pay. It was odd for all of them to be viewed as teen idols after the anguish that they had seen. At least people were carefree enough for that to be possible.

"No, it's definitely not that," Trowa assured him. "I think I know her from my childhood. That's why I don't want to make it obvious that I don't know her. She might take it the wrong way."

Quatre clapped his friend on the back in a kindly manner. "Well, if you don't remember her before she has to leave you should ask. I'm sure she'll understand. Life hasn't always been easy on you."

"Nor you."

"I suppose you're right," he admitted. "Just don't let someone who was a link to your past slip away. Maybe she can help fill in the gaps."

"Maybe," Trowa said. "Oh well, there's no use worrying about it now, I guess. We only have a few hours to play before dinner."

Chortling, Quatre admitted Trowa into the closest room, his study. "A few more hours for you to throttle me, you mean! You were always a better strategist than I was, even if it is just chess." Trowa joined in his laughter wholeheartedly, pushing the mysterious blonde girl from his mind.

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A/N: Thanks for reading this far! I apologize if the characters seem OOC at all. I wanted to give them the flavor of growing from adolescence into their mid-20's, that will be developed further in later chapters. Everything about Midii Une, Sylvia Noventa, etc. will be explained in full, I assure you. Much more Trowa and Midii interaction will come up next chapter, with Quatre and Sylvia, as well. Any reviews are welcome and appreciated and taken to heart, so feel free to tell me your opinions. Until next time!


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